


Gods and Ninja

by AaliyahMorielle



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/F, F/M, Family Feels, Father-Daughter Relationship, Konoha Village, M/M, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Ninja
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 20:42:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14028348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AaliyahMorielle/pseuds/AaliyahMorielle
Summary: A young, low-class girl decides to become a ninja, in order to search for her uncle. However, nothing prepared her for the challenges that come along with taking this path.





	Gods and Ninja

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Naruto or any of the characters involved in the Naruto Storyline. They were all created by Masashi Kishimoto. I own my Oc and any characters added to this story. Thank you.

The sea is calm to-night.

The tide is full, the moon lies fair

Upon the straits; - on the French coast the light

Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of nowhere stand,

Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.

Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!

Only, from the long line of spray

Where the sea meets the moon-blanch'd land,

Listen! you hear the grating roar

Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,

At their return, up the high strand,

Begin, and cease, and then again begin,

With tremulous cadence slow, and bring

The eternal note of sadness in.

Walking...The dream would always start with the woman walking. A woman I had never met but in some way did know. She would be walking along the shores of the same beach, dragging her feet through the cold wet sand as she went. While at the same time paying close attention to where she walked and what she carried in her arms. She would alternate her golden gaze between the wiggling bundle, the beach, and the moon; which lied more largely on the sea than normal. And then smile as the wind blew through her long dreaded locks full of equally gold clips and pins.

Sophocles long ago  
Heard it on the gean, and it brought  
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow  
Of human misery; we  
Find also in the sound a thought,  
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.

The woman was the perfect pretense of calm beauty on the outside. But what emotion, she lacked on the outside, she let run amuck, full throttle, on the inside as she continued her deliberately slow trek down the beach. She had clearly made up her mind about something a while back. And with that, had chosen her destination and come to a stop. She reached a point on the beach that appeared to drop off the edge of the land and unlike anyone else, she showed no fear as she approached it. Clearly resigned to whatever fate awaited her at this final decision.

The Sea of Faith  
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore  
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furl'd.  
But now I only hear  
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,  
Retreating, to the breath  
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear  
And naked shingles of the world.

The woman glanced down at the bundle again when the child stirred from its sleep, but once it settles again, she once more felt at ease. As no amount of pain or suffering could be worse than how she would feel if her child was awake for this. Or at least that’s what she mumbled to herself. The woman was about to say her final farewells moments after she spoke her previous words. When the crowd of people, who had caused her to run, could suddenly be heard at the sight of her on the edge of the earth.

Ah, love, let us be true  
To one another! for the world, which seems  
To lie before us like a land of dreams,  
So various, so beautiful, so new,  
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,  
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;   
And we are here as on a darkling plain  
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,  
Where ignorant armies clash by night.

They were only at the edge of where she stood and anyone could tell that the few yards that separated her from them would quickly get smaller and smaller any moment as the angry group called for her to get her away from the ledge with the child. But, no, she would not accept it, not this time. The woman didn’t wait for them to fire at her first, nor did she attempt to get them before they got her. No, instead she turned with as much courage as she could manage and dropped the child over the edge of the rocks.

The results were almost immediate as the outcries from the group of people grew more furious. All of them at once, running towards her to furiously punish the woman who had dropped the baby off of the cliff...and the woman instead of screaming or begging simply smiled sorrowfully, looked up at her favorite star, and took the fall right after the child.

**Author's Note:**

> The poem in the prologue is not mine in any way.


End file.
